Family Leads to Memories
by shegoismyfav
Summary: The final installment of the 'Leads to' series. Join an older Cinderella as she remembers her last months spent with her stepmother.


**AN: I know this song is talking about a girl remembering a boyfriend or husband that left her, but since it never outright says it, I've twisted it to fit with this story. Song- Lauren Alaina's The Middle. This is also not something I would typically do, as it doesn't follow with the other stories' format that are in this series. But I couldn't help it, so here you go. I give you—the last installment of the Fear Leads to Love series**.

_I get this feeling every year, the first days of winter _

The Queen Mother, Cinderella, walked into the old dusty storage room. She hadn't been in there in years, and was a little taken aback by the sudden rush of memories that assaulted her the second she stepped into the room. Gathering her courage, she walked purposefully to a large box in the corner. Gripping a corner of the faded fabric tightly, she yanked back the sheet that covered the last remaining ties to her mother. It's hinges creaked in protest as she forced them to open.

She smiled grimly as her eyes landed on the various possessions the woman had owned. Everything from books to jewelry lay in the old box, and she had to fight back tears as she caressed the items. She wouldn't have come, but it was the twentieth anniversary of the woman's passing, and it felt like an insult not to come. The aging ex-queen carefully lowered herself into an old chair. She winced as her joints protested.

Fifty-four was not so young anymore, and she was well aware of that fact. She glanced out the window, watching the snow fall gently. _'It all started on a day_ _like this,'_ she thought sadly, beginning to let her mind wander through her vast memory vault... …...

Cinderella was in the throne room when her four children rushed in. She looked up as their voices overlapped, picking up on the panic in each one.

"Children!" The four fell silent under their mother's stern gaze, but their eyes conveyed the fear that gripped their hearts. "Thank you. Now, Eden," she called to her eldest, fifteen and heir of the throne, "whatever has caused you to burst in here in such a ruckus?"

The girl curtseyed gracefully before addressing her mother.

"Mother, it's Momo. She wouldn't wake up when we went to get her."

The young Princess' eyes glistened with unshed tears as she spoke, but she held them back for the sake of her siblings. The Queen's eyes widened. It was extremely unusual for her mother not to immediately waken to her grandchildren's persistent calls. She rose regally and proceeded down the hall to Lady Tremaine's room, her children following behind.

"Don't worry, darlings, I'm sure she's just extremely tired," she called over her shoulder, though deep in her heart she wasn't so sure.

She held up a hand as she entered the darkened room, signaling her children to remain in the corridor. She inched closer to the bed, taking note that the older woman didn't stir as she normally would have. As she leaned over her, she saw that she was breathing, and relaxed a fraction. She gently shook her shoulder, growing more frantic when she didn't seem to feel it.

"Mother. Mother," she called, her voice beginning to rise in pitch from her panic.

Just as she was ready to scream, the older woman opened her eyes. Cinderella let out a sigh of relief. But her reassurance faded fast when she noticed that the normally bright emerald green eyes were dull.

"Mother, are you all right? The children couldn't wake you and became worried."

Dull eyes relayed confusion before understanding dawned.

"Yes, though I am a little warm. I must have been more tired than I thought."

She tried to smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Her daughter reached over and laid a small hand on her cheek, eyes widening at the heat she hadn't noticed earlier.

"You're running a fever. Are you sure you feel all right?"

"Yes, other than being tired."

"Well, I'd rather you rest until your fever breaks, okay?"

"If you insist, darling."

She settled back with a yawn, and Cinderella adjusted the covers.

"Sleep well, Mother. I love you."

After reassuring her children that their grandmother was indeed fine, just slightly under the weather, and that they could see her later, she headed back to the throne room. But she couldn't shake the deep rooted feeling that something was wrong. …...

_Pull out that box of souvenirs, to read your old letters_

She sniffled a little as she removed her mother's old diary. She stroked the cover lovingly, and remembered how much this book meant to the woman. _'If only we had known then. Maybe we could have helped her somehow. Or at least made absolutely certain that she knew we loved her before it was too late.' _

She opened the book and a worn letter fluttered into her lap, one of many. She recognized it as one she had sent to her mother when she had been away to another kingdom. There were many others like it in the book, along with some from her father from when they were courting. She clutched the book to her chest as sobs she didn't realize had been building ripped through her body. They echoed in the vast room, and the sound of them only served to make her sob harder. …...

It was a month or so after the scare. Much to Cinderella's concern, the fever had not broken, but continued to burn like fire. And bruises were beginning to appear at the slightest provocation. There were dozens of them across her mother's skin, many of which came from nothing more than brushing against a door frame or chair. Lady Tremaine was beginning to worry as well, though she hid it well.

She noticed that her appetite had dropped off and that she was losing weight. Cinderella noticed too, and doctors were called in. None of them had a diagnosis. They were all puzzled, which only served to make the women worry more. The children weren't aware, though Elanor suspected Eden knew, given her perceptive nature.

The boys pretended not to care, but their eyes gave it away—they were just as worried as everyone else. Even King Henry, who, after all these years, still didn't care for the woman, was worried. But Elanor pushed on, determined to beat whatever was plaguing her. …...

_In that stack of memories, found the note you left for me _

_It almost feels like you're still here _

_I hear your voice in every word _

Cinderella finally found the one thing she had been searching for. A letter, not dissimilar to the rest, save for the fact that this one was marked by tear stains and smudged fingerprints. She traced the words as she mouthed them, each one embedded in her heart and mind. …...

Her mother was getting sick easily. If a servant had a cold, she was certain to catch it. She hadn't even been able to comfort Adara when she had been ill the previous week. In fact, she had been nowhere near the youngest royal, but had caught whatever illness it was anyway. The Queen was more often with her now than not, leaving the kingdom to her husband for the time being.

He understood, and was quick to take the extra work. When she wasn't with her mother, Eden was, soothing her and cooling her fever, which never seemed to break, only spike with each illness. Cinderella noticed her mother growing weaker and began to worry that she wouldn't live past each illness, and was thoroughly relived when she did. But the feeling of something being wrong had yet to leave her. Instead, it only grew stronger with each passing day. …...

Five months after the initial fever set in, Elanor began to complain of severe headaches. The only thing that brought her relief was sleep, which she began doing a lot more. The royal family was on edge. There was clearly something wrong with the elderly woman, and no one knew what it was. The children and their mother spent as much time as possible with her, sensing something dreadful in the air. …...

Six months after that first day, Lady Tremaine was unable to get out of bed, complaining of severe bone and joint pain. Several herbs and painkillers were prescribed, but none helped. One night, as Cinderella sat with the woman who used to be so strong and regal, now nothing but a shadow of her former self, the woman said something that sent chills up her spine.

"I'm going to die soon."

Cinderella jerked her head up from where it had been resting on the bed.

"Don't say that, Mother. You'll...be fine. We just haven't found the right medicine yet."

The words sounded hollow and forced even to her ears, and she winced at how unconvincing she was. Her mother reached over and covered her hand with one of her own. She looked up at her, and was met with a smile.

"It's all right, Ella. We both know that the doctors gave up hope months ago. Nothing they've given me so far has helped. I'm as weak as a newborn. I've accepted it, and so should you."

Though her words were gentle, they caused tears to stream down the younger woman's face. She shook her head violently, refusing to accept the truth of the older woman's words.

"No. No, you're not going to die. You can't!"

With sobs wracking her body, she clutched the older woman tightly. Despite the immense pain this caused her, Lady Tremaine allowed her daughter to hug her. She stroked her fingers through hair that had once been brilliant blonde, but was now graying, in hopes of calming her down. As time passed, the pain increased, but still she allowed the young woman to hold on, because she knew, deep down, that her time on earth was short. …...

_Makes me smile when I look back to every summer _

_You forget your birthday and just laugh; say it's just a number _

_But Sunday afternoons, they meant so much to you _

_The simple things were golden, you found beauty in every moment _

As her sobs slowed, she caught sight of a portrait, faded with age and lack of proper care, carefully cushioned in the box. She allowed a small smile to form as she looked at it. It was the last birthday present she gave the woman. It was a painting of them and the children. Her smile grew as she remembered that her mother had actually forgotten her birthday that year and was surprised when her grandchildren insisted on a celebration.

She had laughed and insisted that age was just a number and nothing to be celebrated. Her smile faded as she realized that had been a mere three months before she had fallen ill. She had never made it to her next birthday, which fell in August. But her spirits soon lifted again as she saw the many drawings her children had made over the years. Some of hers were there as well, which had surprised her the first time she had ever opened the box.

Cinderella's thoughts wandered to the small moments spent with her mother. She had found beauty in the simplest things, be it a child's unintelligible drawing or snow dripping as it melted. Sunday afternoons had been her favorite. She and the children would all cuddle in her bed as she read them fairy tales. Cinderella had been present on more than one occasion, and had found those moments just as magical as her children.

Her good mood vanished as quickly as it came when she saw the one thing that could reduce her to tears in seconds flat: her mother's signature ring. She had given it to her shortly before she died, having wanted her to have something to pass on to Eden when she was older, not to mention something of hers for the young woman to keep. It was the one thing that had always been on her person, no matter the occasion. Cinderella could not remember her mother not wearing that ring. The large emerald glittered in the candlelight, reminding her of the day her mother died and the days leading up to it. …...

Elanor was dying. She knew it, and Cinderella knew it. Even the children sensed it, being much more clingy than usual—even the boys—and refusing to leave her side for too long. Each breath she took was shallow and painful. Her fever was dangerously high, and her moments of lucidity were far and few between.

Her family was with her constantly, one at a time, rotating off every few hours. Once, she woke in a state of awareness to find Adara curled against her. She was so accustomed to pain at this point that her granddaughter's extra weight hardly registered. She ran her hand through dark chestnut curls, causing big green eyes to look at her.

"Momo, don't die. We need you. We love you. Don't leave us. Don't leave me."

Her granddaughter's words made her heart clench, and she regretted that she couldn't give her the promise she so desperately needed to hear. Instead, she kissed her hair and hugged her as tightly as she could. The next time she woke, Cinderella was beside her, tears evident on her face. She reached over and grasped her hand. The younger woman's eyes rose to meet hers, mournful and brimming with tears.

"Ella," she whispered as she tugged off her ring, the one possession she valued above all others, as Cinderella's father had given it to her. "I want you to have this. Your father gave it to me shortly after we were married. Give it to Eden when she's old enough, so that you both may always have a piece of me."

"Mother, no, not your ring. It's your most prized possession. I couldn't take it."

Lady Tremaine pressed the ring into her palm. She then smiled a weak smile and drifted back to sleep, her energy spent...

It was Eden who found her. It was six o'clock on the morning of April seventeenth, and it was a day that would change the royal family drastically. She had just switched places with her mother, who, before leaving, kissed Lady Tremaine on the cheek and told her she loved her. She had woken up just long enough to tell her she loved her, too. That was at four o'clock.

Before her grandmother fell asleep, she had the biggest urge to tell her she loved her. She did. The elderly woman smiled at her, told her she loved her, and went back to sleep. Eden accidentally fell asleep soon after, the stress of her grandmother's illness taking its toll. She woke up just before six.

Stretching, she noticed that Elanor didn't appear to be breathing. Fear gripping her heart, she stood and leaned over the bed, hoping it was a trick of the light. But upon closer inspection, she found she was right; her grandmother had stopped breathing. There was no rise and fall of her chest, no matter how long she stared. She laid a hand on her grandmother's shoulder, and almost withdrew when she found her to be cooler than she had been in months.

That alone confirmed her fears, but her heart wouldn't allow her to accept it. Her beloved Momo couldn't be dead, she just couldn't.

"Momo," she said while shaking her shoulder. "Momo, come on, wake up." The woman didn't respond, as Eden knew she wouldn't, but she couldn't stop. "Momo, come on. Don't do this, it isn't funny."

Eventually, she stopped trying and just wept. Her sobs grew louder, shouts of grief intermingled with them. She called for her grandmother, she called for her mother, she even called for her father. Anyone who could take the pain away. Cinderella came running, still in her nightgown.

She covered her mouth with a hand as she took in the scene. Gently, she led her daughter away from the room. Her husband and three other children were in the hall. Henry looked at her, and she nodded her head, eyes glistening with tears. He bowed his head, and her youngest three started to cry. …...

As Cinderella's sobs quieted for the second time, she looked back down at the old letter grasped tightly in her hand. She read and re-read her mother's script.

**Ella,** it started off, **I'm dying. I can feel it, and I know you can see it. Though I don't know what has caused it, I've accepted it. It's almost worth it to be out of this pain. I want you to know I love you, and I thank you for giving me four wonderful grandchildren. **

**I know you tend to grieve for long periods of time like I do. I beg you not to do that. You have a kingdom and four children that depend on you. Don't close them out as I did to you in my grief. Please tell Eden I know she'll make a wonderful queen. **

**Tell the boys that I'm sorry I couldn't be there to see them compete in their first tournament. And tell Adara that I'm sorry I missed her tenth birthday. I know how she was looking forward to it, as she was to have her first birthday ball. And I'm sorry that I won't be there for you anymore. To help you and guide you as your children grow and develop their own personalities. **

**I want you to know that the smartest thing I did in my life was marrying your father. I gained a beautiful, smart daughter, who I am ever grateful for. I love you, my darling girl. I leave you now with some words of advice I wish someone had passed on to me when I was young. Perhaps if they had I wouldn't have made so many mistakes. **

**Take each day and make it last, 'cause you turn around and the future is the past. Here and now is all we have. The beginning and the end mean so little. What matters most is what's in the middle. The day you're born is just a start. **

**Your last breath is a question mark. The story of your life is in the in-between. What matters most is what's in the middle. All my love, Your Mother.**

She had memorized those words two decades ago when she had found it under her mother's pillow. She had been right. Eden was a splendid queen, though she had only recently taken the throne. She would have been proud of Alexander and Aaron. They had tied for first place in their first tournament, which had been held later that year.

They were married now, each with children of their own. Adara had been upset that her grandmother couldn't be at her ball, but she dedicated a song to her memory. She was currently being courted by a handsome prince from another country. _'My,' _Cinderella thought, _'how my children have grown. You would be proud of them, Mother.' _

Feeling a little better than she had that morning, Cinderella carefully repacked the box and covered it up. The only thing she kept was the ring. She hadn't worn it once since it had been given to her, but she felt that it was time for it to be shown. She slipped it on her finger and kissed it.

"Thank you, Mother," she whispered to the empty room. "I love you."

With that, she turned and exited, her heart lighter than it had been that morning.

**AN: In case you didn't know what was wrong with Lady Tremaine, she died from Leukemia. I know a lot of people who have fallen victim to cancer or been diagnosed with it. This story is dedicated to them, for all their courage and strength.**

**AN 2: Thank you to all of you who actually waited for me to finish these. It was the second part that held me up, but now I'm glad to announce that this is the end. Thank you for your support.**


End file.
